


Falling Hard

by russianmango



Series: 30 in 30 [13]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russianmango/pseuds/russianmango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Denial: Mike let his diet slide a bit over the summer, but he never thought it would get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning of eating disorder implications, but nothing too heavy.

Mike is pretty sure it started in the summer. An innocent mistake in the beginning. He hit up a Starbucks on his way to his parent's house and forgot to ask for no whipped cream and skim milk. Not a big deal, though. A one-time thing and he'd been doing really well. Since he was doing that, he decided there was no harm in picking up a bacon and gouda breakfast sandwich, either. Sure, it was all kinds of extra things he didn't need floating around his body, but he was hungry and about to hit the road.

At his parent's house, things were pretty normal. They were all eating healthier since he got a dietician to raid their kitchen. So, he was back to his usual healthy self, within reason. They didn't fully support his new diet, but he didn't see the harm grilled cheese, even if they still used white bread and butter. He was healthy enough to spare a few extra calories here and there.

Later on, when his niece got back from camp, she offered him some gummy worms he couldn't refuse. Again, not a big deal in the grand scheme of things - his workouts greatly countered the candies, while also allowing him to bond with his little niece. If he snuck a couple extra gummies after she fell asleep, he deserved them for being a great uncle.

When he got back from his parent's house, he found himself in the mind-set of "I'll work it off anyway" while shopping, which wasn't a good habit to get into, but he went with it. He was on vacation and it wasn't impacting his health like it used to, anyway. He'd start eating healthy again once the season started.

The problem with that was that once the season started, Mike didn't have as much time to prepare meals. Not to mention cooking for one seemed like too much work and often left a lot of extras. So, he opted for take out a couple times. It wasn't a big deal, he'd get back to being healthy once he got used to the schedule again. And if he snuck in a bag of gummy worms every once in a while after filling up the gas tank, so be it. He's an adult, it's not like it was hurting anybody.

The truth is that he didn't even notice any difference. Not until Nicky made a comment on Mike eating bacon and his large plate of food. "Have to get the energy for practice," Mike shrugged. It was just bacon, eggs, and beans. Nothing he wouldn't eat at home with his folks, anyway.

It wasn't brought up again until Mike and Brooks went out for coffee and Mike didn't ask for skim or no whipped cream. He hadn't really bothered to suggest the difference since the summer and it tasted slightly better, anyway. He paid that much for a coffee, he might as well enjoy it.

Of course, though, Brooks wouldn't see it that way. "But you always hold the whipped cream, don't you?"

"I tried it in the summer, it's actually alright. It adds a little flavour, you know?" Mike shrugged.

Unlike Nicky, Brooks was more adamant about Mike's nutrition habits and continued to press. "What about the calories and the sugar?"

"Brooks, it's a coffee. If I was worried what a little sugar was going to do, I'd stop drinking the shit all together. Relax; it's not the end of the world. Mojo gets like five sugars and I don't see you lecturing him about it," Mike pointed out. He had a point, so Brooks didn't bother arguing further.

When Mike got home that day, he thought about what Brooks said about the extra calories and decided to do an extra home workout before lunch. It doesn't really work that way, Mike knew that, but it couldn't hurt adding in the workout to balance it a little more.

On the ice, everything was fine. They won and since he felt good about his game, he decided to go for the pizza table in the back, instead of the veggie platter. He ignored the glare from Brooks and decided to talk to Sasha, who had also opted for the pizza. Sure, it was about three hundred empty calories he could have done without, but it was fine to live a little. Nobody bugged Sasha about eating pizza, and that was his main food-group apart from his mother's cooking.

Mike was a little concerned when he checked the scale and noticed he was a couple pounds heavier than his base-test in the fall. It wasn't a big deal though, weight fluctuated during the season. Once games picked up and they got further into the season, he'd be golden. Not that it couldn't hurt to add in a couple of extra workouts.

Brooks also seemed interested in the added routines, which Mike found kind of annoying. He didn't need a babysitter. Besides, why would Brooks have a problem with extra workouts?

"I don't have a problem, I was just curious why your schedule changed," Brooks offered. It was an odd thing to see Mike at the gym before practice, but it wasn't unheard of. "Just trying to better myself, Brooks," he answered.

Mike could sense Brooks watching him more often since the talk in the gym and it kind of pissed him off. Brooks was supposed to be his friend and trust him, not accuse him of god knows what. It was childish! Mike was fine and Brooks would just have to deal with that.

Mike took the long way home and filled up his tank, adding in a pack of Swedish Berries since they were out of worms. He deserved some sugar after dealing with Brooks being a dick all week.

He decided to work out with his home gym for a couple mornings to avoid Brooks, but when he checked his weight again, it was up from the previous week. He honestly didn't understand, unless it was muscle. Which would make sense, him working out more would give him more muscle mass, even if it was mostly cardio he worked on.

It wasn't until a week later that Brooks really started to annoy Mike. "Concerned", Brooks decided to start making house calls. "Mike, come on. Talk to me, tell me what's wrong," Brooks asked.

Mike honestly had no idea what Brooks was talking about, but he decided to amuse Brooks, hoping to get him to leave quicker. "I don't know, Brooks. Tell me what's bothering you."     

"Fine, you know what's bothering me? You are. I don't know what's going on with you, but you've changed and it's not for the better."

"Wow, tell me how you really feel," Mike rolled his eyes.

"I am. I don't care if you don't like it anymore because it's starting to show in your game," Brooks stated. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Because there's nothing to tell, nothing is going on," Mike insisted, but Brooks had other ideas. Brooks started to look around Mike's apartment, heading straight to the kitchen. "You came to raid my fridge, Brooks?" Mike asked.

"No, I came to find out what you've been doing to yourself," Brooks answered. He clearly wasn’t trying to spare Mike's feelings as he looked through all the cupboards before moving on to the fridge.

"Well, I don't know what you're looking for, but I'm not doing anything to myself."

"So, you're not smoking pot again?" Brooks asked.

Mike stared at Brooks in disbelief. He couldn't believe Brooks would accuse him of smoking again after Mike promised him he wouldn't. “No, Brooks. I'm not, for your information. I told you, I'm done with that and I haven't smoked in two years."

"I'm not the only one who has noticed, Mike. You've neglected your diet a number of times and I can only assume you do it at home, too. Last time you were like this it was because of pot. Are you telling me I'm wrong?"

"Yeah, Brooks, I am. Because I'm not smoking and I'm not neglecting my diet," Mike defended himself.

"Come on, Mike. At least be honest with me. I know you've been eating like shit for at least a month now, probably longer."

"You know what, Brooks? I don't owe you anything. So I've been a little relaxed with my diet here and there, I can handle it. I've been doing extra workouts to balance out," Mike confessed.

"It doesn't work that way and you know it," Brooks said. "You know your body enough to know that a couple extra pounds can mean a lot in terms of your fitness. It's hard for you to work that off and I just want you to realize what you're doing to yourself."

"I'm a grown man, Brooks. I can handle myself and make my own choices," Mike scolded.

Brooks just shook his head. "Fine, whatever you say. Just smarten up and get back in shape or I'm telling the trainers," Brooks said before leaving Mike's apartment.

Mike couldn't believe his former best friend was being such a dick over nothing. He didn't have an eating problem; Brooks just didn't know how hard he was working out at home, so he chose to assume Mike was being unhealthy.

The more he thought about it, the angrier it made Mike. Brooks should have trusted him to know better, but still he didn't believe a word he said. Mike went for a drive to cool off, but ended up at Carlson’s place, venting about Brooks being a jerk. "I thought he was my best friend, you know? But he doesn't get me."

"It's though, man," Carlson agreed, nodding along with Mike's rant.

"See, you get me," Mike said. "That's why you're, like, my best friend, you know? We get each other."

"Yeah, I get it. I mean, I still think Karl's my main bro and all, but you're pretty up there," John continued nodding. Mike just smiled.

"I don't even know why it bothers me so much. What gives Brooks the right to say I've been neglecting my diet? I'm a grown man, I can choose what I put in my body and I can damn well make sure it's not a problem, right?" Mike ranted. "You agree with me, right?" he asked.

Carlson shrugged. "Yeah, I think he's being a total dick."

"But you think I have an eating problem?"

"I wouldn't say an eating problem, but you could be a little more strict with your diet, I guess. I mean, you did just eat a bunch of my cookies, and you have been going out for pizza with the guys a lot. Maybe you could tone it down a bit?" Carlson suggested.

"You sound just like Brooks, John. What, a guy can't have a little pizza every now and then?" Mike accused.

"Well, I just mean, you have gained a little weight, right? It wouldn't be the worst thing to cut that down," Carlson explained.

"I can take care of myself, John. God, haven't you been paying attention to a word I've been saying? Brooks is just being a dick. What, did he have you promise to talk to me or something?"

"How would he know you'd come here to bitch about him?" Carlson asked.

"I don't know, but he got to you, didn't he?" Mike asked. "I can't believe him. Hell, I can't believe you'd fall for it. Thanks a lot, Carly," Mike said, before walking out the door.

If Brooks got to Carlson, chances are Backstrom would also call him fat. He had to go to the only guy on the team he could trust. Thankfully, Joel was home.

"Hey, Mike. What's up?"

"Am I fat?"

"Um, is that a trick question?" Joel laughed.

"Brooks is being a dick because I'm not on his robot diet and he's turned everyone against me," Mike explained.

"Mike, I'm a big guy. It's all about balance," Joel offered.

"Not you, too," Mike complained. "Come on!"

Joel laughed. "Mike, listen. I like to eat, I do. But I only eat like shit on weekends," he explained.

"I don't eat like shit, though," Mike defended. "Okay, every once in a while I give myself a little break or whatever, but it's not like Brooks is making it out to be."

"Come on, man. I know how it is, you let go a little and it just gets out of control, right?" Joel sympathised. Mike tried to but in, but Joel stopped him. "I love food. But it's all about the home cooked meals with lots of veggies and light meat," he explained.

"I know how to eat. God, I'm a grown man."

"I never said you weren't, you just need to get back to being healthy."

"Whatever, I thought you'd have my back, but whatever," Mike said. "I guess I might as well go home. Nice talking to you," he added before leaving.

Mike got home and poured himself a beer. What did he care what everyone thought? He was healthy; he could make his own choices.

\----------

It wasn't until a couple days later, after Mike fell behind a bit during practice, that things got more intense. Nobody in the locker room said anything to him, but he could tell they were thinking it. Maybe he needed to add on another workout or so, but it wasn't his eating that was the problem. He was just a little tired.

Mike went home, not bothering to eat out with the guys this time. Mostly because they'd been avoiding him. He could admit he was a little harsh on some of the guys, but it wasn't his fault. They wouldn't believe him.

Mike looked through his kitchen for something to eat and decided on an apple, just to prove everyone wrong. Proud of himself, he sat on his couch and flipped through channels until there was a knock at the door. Reluctantly, Mike got up to answer it.

Mike figured Brooks would be standing there, looking smug. But when he got to the door, it wasn't Brooks, nor was the person smug. "Paul," Mike said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Brooks called me, Mike," Paul admitted. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, for the last time," Mike whined. "Listen, I'm sorry you came all the way here, but I'm fine. Brooks is just paranoid."

"He said you haven't been eating properly and it's starting to show in your game," Paul said. When Mike stayed silent, Paul stepped in closer to Mike. "Listen, we lived together for two years, you can tell me what's wrong."

"Paul, why would I make such a thing out of nothing being wrong if there was something wrong?" Mike asked.

"Because you're Garfield?" Paul suggested. Mike didn't find the humour in it and instead, looked pissed. "Come on, Mike. Let's go into the couch for a while and talk it out, okay? Just tell me what's new; we haven't really talked since I moved out."

Mike reluctantly agreed. Paul took them to the couch and Mike rested his head on Paul's shoulder, just like they used to sit. "So, Mikey-boy, why so down?"

Mike sighed. "I'm not down. I swear."

"Alright, than why do I see so many take out boxes?" Paul asked.

"There aren't that many," Mike said, taking a look around. There were more than he remembered getting, but that didn't really prove much. "I don't get it," he admitted, realizing that maybe it was a problem. "I don't feel down."

"Maybe you aren't, but there's a reason you started eating like this," Paul pointed out.

"I guess I thought things would go back to normal once the season started?" Mike thought out loud. "I relaxed a bit in the summer, okay? I was at my parent's and didn't want them to go all out on special food, so I had grilled cheese and stuff. But I wasn't out of control, I was still working out every day and I felt great," Mike explained.

"Then what happened?" Paul asked, running his fingers through Mike's hair to help calm him down.

"I don't know. I was in great shape when the season started, but I didn't have time and when I did have time, there was too much food. It just didn't see a point in cooking for _one_ person and the guys all have things going on, I can't invite them over all the time," Mike sighed.

"Mikey, why wouldn't you just make smaller portions?" Paul asked.

"You didn't teach me how to cook for one," Mike admitted. "I would've asked or figured it out on my own, but I didn't have a lot of time. Besides, I didn't think it was a big deal. I really didn't mean to let it get this far, you know?"

"Well, just don't let it get worse. Start cooking for yourself, make time. Stop buying junk food and stop ordering out. Get rid of temptation for eating poorly and it'll help. You fluctuate naturally; just keep at it, alright?" Paul suggested. "And if you need me to come over sometimes, just call. I don't like getting calls from angry teammates telling me you're a nervous wreck."

"He called me a nervous wreck?" Mike asked. Paul didn't answer, but kissed Mike on the side of the head. "Fine, he was right and I need to eat better. I just didn't want to bother you."

"I appreciate it, but it's really no problem. I'm not that far and I'd rather have my favourite defensemen in top shape," Paul offered.

"I thought Karl was your favourite?" Mike poked.

"I don't let Karl lean on me when he's sad," Paul pointed out. "Only you."

Mike smiled and nested into Paul's side, trying not to think about what 'only you' meant.


End file.
